Damn that Bike
by SheLovesGreenTea
Summary: '"Harvey," Donna's voice trembled, "he's bleeding."... That's when he noticed the trail of blood cascading down Mike's hand from under his suit jacket's sleeve.' -Hurt!Mike


Disclaimer: I don't own Suits. If I did, there would be more bromance and less shit I don't care about.

You sweet people wanted more, so here it is! Have some freshly written hurt!Mike because I am the biggest sadist in the world apparently.

As always, thank you for reading.

* * *

Harvey resisted the urge to check his phone again for another nonexistent message from his associate. Mike was _forty minutes_ late. As in four, zero.

If it was one thing in this world that drove him up the wall, it was unprofessionalism. He wasn't a man interested in excuses because he believes they're one of the biggest time wasters in the world. And if people just got their shit together, man up, they wouldn't be _forty minutes_ late!

Harvey exhaled in an attempt to calm himself because all he wanted to do right now was strangle the kid. Why couldn't Mike simply obey? Why was that big brain too busy eidetically remembering information that it couldn't remember the most common things? Did he not know that arriving on time is an incidental part to _any_ job? The only reasons for Mike's behavior that Harvey could come up with was carelessness and laziness.

"Donna," Harvey called, "anything from Mike?"

Donna's fiery hair whipped over her shoulder as her concerned face turned towards him.

"Nothing."

He took another breath and massaged the space between his brows, a headache already blooming. Donna rose from her seat and gracefully slid into his office.

"Harvey, what if something's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he retorted. "He probably slept in or is hungover." The thought alone made him pissed.

"While that may be likely, Mike's never missed a day and when he is late, he isn't for over," she glanced down at her phone, "forty four minutes. It's usually ten."

"Well maybe he's made an effort to break his own record because it _is_ a record, Donna," he added quickly when she opened her mouth to interject, "I've given out so many lectures on how to be on time for work that we don't have a mathematical scale to measure just how many."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Easy for you to say," he said, completely annoyed at this point, "you don't have to deal with him."

Mike chose at that time to barrel into his office and Harvey had to hand it to him, kid knew how to make an entrance. His blonde tufts of hair were completely disheveled, two buttons hadn't been buttoned, one side of his suit looked oddly dusty, and he had a cut on the corner of his mouth. Perspiration had beaded itself on his scuffed forehead, and the briefs that were due forty five minutes ago were rumpled in his hands.

"H-hey," Mike panted.

"Oh my God," Donna exclaimed. "Mike what happened to your lip?"

"Where the hell were you?" Harvey irely demanded and rose out of his chair. "Do you have any idea how late you are?"

Mike shifted uncomfortably and stiffly on his feet.

"I'm s-sor-

"I don't need your apology," he spat, "what I needed were those briefs _forty five minutes_ ago!"

"Harvey," Donna began.

"No!" He exclaimed. "You don't get to baby him Donna!"

"I'm not-

"It's..al-alright," Mike breathed, looking extremely pale. Serves him right for probably being hungover.

"No," Donna yelled, "it's not alright!"

Whatever she was gonna say next lodged in her throat. "Harvey," Donna's voice trembled, "he's bleeding."

He rolled his eyes. "He has a cut on his lip, Donna, what do you-

That's when he noticed the trail of blood cascading down Mike's hand from under his suit jacket's sleeve. It pooled under his middle finger and Harvey watched as the drop of crimson splattered the floor.

And just like that, the anger was gone and was replaced with pure concern. He tentatively stepped toward his associate.

"Mike?"

Mike's face was whiter that his dress shirt. He didn't respond immediately which made him even more worried in return, but then his large, wide, bright blue eyes locked onto his gaze.

"H-Harvey,"he called, hands and jaw clenched, like his father before he had his first heart attack, "I don't feel too good."

His heart smashed into his rib cage and Harvey forced himself to stay calm.

"Oh my God," Donna whispered worriedly and made his way over to him.

"What hurts Mike?"

He clenched his eyes this time and breathed harshly. Donna and Harvey patiently waited for him to answer while eyeing each other in fear.

"Mike," Donna said gently when he didn't respond, "what hurts honey?"

"My ch-chest," he finally hissed.

For starters, he needed to see the physical damage ASAP.

"Alright, Mike. Can you take off your jacket?"

The young man remained rigid. "It hurts." Mike repeated, looking much younger than he actually was. His tone alone yanked at his heartstrings.

"I'm going to take off your jacket. That okay Mike?"

Even though Harvey asked, he didn't wait for the kid's permission. The state of not knowing how bad the damage was, killed him as it always did. He moved quickly to Mike's side, but gingerly shrugged him out of his jacket which caused Mike to groan at making any movements. Donna suddenly gasped in horror and covered her mouth with her hand. Harvey stepped back in front of Mike to see why a-

Oh God.

Mike's entire left arm was drenched in blood, and his shoulder area was torn. The stark, dark red contrasted horrifically with his white dress shirt like crimson blood splattered on pristine snow.

"Harvey what should I do? Should I call 911?" Donna asked, petrified, eyes glued to Mike's arm.

"N-no," Mike ground out and shut his eyes. "M'fine..m'fine."

They couldn't help but shoot Mike a _fine my ass_ look.

"I wanna take a look first."

"Harvey!" Donna exclaimed incredulously, "We don't have time for you to play doctor!"

"Donna," he reasoned, "no matter what he's going to the hospital. We're not taking any actions 'till I at least get a look. It might not be that bad- it may just be a lot of blood, and if it isn't we'll call them immediately." Besides, he knew the kid didn't want to attract unnecessary attention.

"Fine," Donna agreed. "What do you need?"

"Get me a pair of scissors, then go find me an aid kit, ice, and uh, painkillers. Scissors first!" He shouted after her when Donna ran to her desk. She handed him the scissors before she ran back out of his office. Mike whimpered at the sight of the sharp object. Harvey bit down the urge to cradle the kid to his chest and all but sprint to the nearest hospital.

"Shh, I know it looks scary Mike, but all I'm doing is cutting off your shirt, okay? Mike you with me?"

Thank God above the kid nodded and he was understood. When Harvey grabbed the hem of his shirt and started to cut his way up, he felt Mike tense even further. When he peeled away the bloodied shirt, their fate took an even worse turn as Harvey gazed in shock at Mike's black and blue chest.

"Jesus Christ…" Harvey breathed. What happened to him?

Mother Teresa met her match in the form of Donna because she brought over a first aid kit and a large cup of ice that Harvey didn't even have time to think about where she got one and how she even brought it over so fast.

"Here," Donna panted, taking off her heels. "I'm going downstairs to buy some strong painkillers as fast as I can."

"Donna, call Ray and see if-

"I won't." She said, eyes watering, and Harvey understood what she meant.

 _I can't just not do anything._

Harvey nodded proudly. "Alright, I'll

see if I can-

"No, Harvey." She refused protectively. "Lay him down and do what you can." With that she took off and sprinted down the hall not before sympathetically and affectionately gazing at Mike.

"How you holdin' up, kid?"

Mike gritted his teeth, but nodded. He's responsive at least that was good. Harvey moved to examine his cut. It was a lot of blood, but it would probably need only a couple stitches. He was more concerned with his bruised chest. Nonetheless, he damped a cloth with some hydrogen peroxide, diluting it with some bottled water he had on the table adjacent to his desk, and brought it close to Mike's shoulder which was a mistake. Harvey should have warned him first because Mike started to back away from him, so he halted and slowed down his movements.

"Mike, I need to clean your shoulder or else you could get an infection."

Mike shook his head. "It'll burn," he said in a small timid voice. Man, he wasn't making this easy.

"It will be over quickly," he promised, taking a hold of his associate's good arm. Harvey would never mention it to anyone, but as soon as he pressed the cloth to his shoulder and Mike squeezed his eyes shut in pain and cried out, he didn't know he himself could feel that much protection and empathy for someone else.

"That's it," he soothed, and pressed the wound together he while simultaneously fished out pressure bandages. He expertly swathed them around Mike's shoulder.

"You're..pretty good..guh..with t-that stuff," Mike ground out.

"Boxing is a bit of a painful hobby I partake in," he admitted. "Trust me, I'm no stranger to stitches or broken bones."

He knew the bit of information he revealed would serve as a distraction, so Harvey took his chance and tightened the bandages and Mike cried out for a second time that morning which all but punched him in the gut. Harvey shushed him again. He put his hand on the small of the younger man's back, he grasped Mike's hand, and gently sat him down on the couch.

Harvey kneeled in front of Mike, gazing at the ugly dark bruise that painted itself over his associate's chest. "You bruised your sternum," Harvey examined.

"It,..h-hurts Harvey." Mike drew in shallow breaths. No doubt even the act of breathing hurt him.

"I know kid, I know." He said, grasping his knee. Harvey mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do, knowing it wasn't gonna be pretty. Because of the bruise on Mike's chest, things were far from over. He wanted to ask what had happened so badly, but now wasn't the time. Harvey took out another clean cloth from the kit and filled it with ice from the cup that Donna brought him. Mike read his actions and shook his from side to side. Paranoia was a side effect of pain.

"Mike," he tried calmly, but the kid wouldn't let him.

"N-no please Harvey. It..hurts..p-please," he wheezed and held his hand up weakly as a defense.

God help him.

The short breaths that Mike drew got faster, and Harvey knew that wasn't a good sign. His hand naturally found the back of his blonde head, and he cradled him in an effort to calm him down.

"Mike," he spoke through the wheezing, "you need to calm down. We'll do it together, okay? Just calm down." He rubbed his good shoulder gently in circles.

In rare situations like these, Harvey was a man of instinct. So, he didn't think twice about laying down on the couch behind Mike, he didn't question the act of tentatively pulling Mike down, so that the younger man was supported on top of his own body, head pillowed on Harvey's shoulder. He didn't think or question any of this, but he sure as hell would if anyone ever brought it up.

They weren't laid down flat on the couch per se. Harvey was upright against the arm of the couch, while Mike was indeed angled flatter than himself. He took the ice wrapped with cloth and placed it in Mike's hands. Mike cupped the ice while Harvey cupped Mike's hands where he led them closer to his bruised sternum. He felt Mike resist, but he carried on.

" _Fuck!_ " Mike cursed when the ice gingerly touched the tender bruise. Harvey held their hands there, even though Mike wanted to let up.

"Good boy," Harvey praised, and planted a kiss in the messy mop of blonde hair. He froze immediately, realizing what he had done, but when Mike made no protest, he somewhat relaxed.

After a while, the only sound in his office was the sound of Mike breathing. At this point, the need for answers was eating at him.

"Mike, what happened to you?"

Harvey felt him tense in his arms, and he hated how he couldn't study his face.

Mike drew in a ragged breath. "Y-you'll..be..mad."

Too late.

He exhaled impatiently through his nose. "I said what happened to you? I not gonna repeat myself again," he scolded sternly.

He hesitated before replying, as if weighing out his options.

"I got.. hit. ..by a c-car," Mike finally confessed.

 _Holy shit._

The image of Mike toppling over a cab, becoming gravity's puppet, and splattering on the concrete ground flooded his mind. What if Mike hit his head and died? Harvey quickly shut that thought away. He did _not_ want to go there. He must have been silently thinking about the moment that transpired before Mike came in his office for a long time because he felt Mike tense up again.

"Harvey?" Mike asked hesitantly.

He unconsciously clenched Mike's hands. "Why the hell didn't you go to the hospital then and there?" he demanded.

"...cos I was.. late ..for w-work." Mike mumbled, and shifted then hissed in his arms.

And just like that, guilt came crashing down on his shoulders. The kid was in all kinds of pain and he just hounded him for being late. He saw only what he wanted to see, something _Louis_ would have done, and Harvey felt extreme disappointment in himself- something he almost never felt.

"I'm throwing that bike in a dumpster," Harvey growled.

"Loved..that bike," Mike muttered. "Harvey, can we... _please_ r-remove.. the i-ice now?"

Harvey frowned. He wondered if his sternum got bruised because his bike rammed into his chest, or the car, or..?

"Not a chance." He said.

"Please?" Mike begged again and tried to remove it by himself anyway.

Harvey tightened his hold. "I said no, Mike." He hated having to put the kid through more pain, but it was for the better. He didn't need to see Mike's face to know that pout formed on his lips.

"H-hurts like..shit."

"I know." He removed one hand, so he can card it through those blonde tufts. "Donna will be back with those meds any minute."

He felt Mike grow lax in his arms, so he kept running his hand through his hair.

"I'm..sorry."

He snorted. "For being hit by a car?"

He didn't need to see Mike's face to know that he rolled his eyes.

"I.. g-got some...blood on the...briefs."

Harvey resisted the urge to run a hand over his face.

" _That's_ what's concerning you right now?"

"...and the couch."

"Jesus," he breathed and gazed up at his ceiling, incredulously.

"...a-and probably..your s-suit."

"Mike." He said it in an effort to shut him up because he was grinning when he shouldn't be. Granted, he was still worried as shit, but man….

"Only you, Mike," he whispered, hand still caressing his bangs back. Only Mike would get hit by a _car_ only to A: still come to work, and B: worry that he got his blood over some briefs and his couch. Unbelievable. And what was more unbelievable was the fact that he assumed the reason why Mike had been late was because he was hungover.

Guilt started to creep up on him again. The only time he'd pulled something remotely unacceptable was when Louis put him under the gun to get high with a client. He should have had a little more faith in the kid.

His phone rang in his pocket causing Mike to mistakenly jolt his upper body. Harvey immediately cringed in sympathy, knowing just how painful that must have been.

"Shit!" Mike ground out and made these little wheezing noises at the back of his throat like a seriously wounded puppy.

"Shh," he soothed by his ear, "you're okay."

He fished out his phone from his pocket with his free hand, already knowing who it was.

"Donna, I don't wanna move him- he's as comfortable as he can be right now. Why don't you come upstairs with the meds."

 _"Please. I'm on my way up as we speak."_

"What did you get?"

 _"I picked up some ibuprofen. It'll definitely numb him up a little bit. Are you icing his chest?"_

"Yeah."

 _"Okay, I'm on my way."_

He hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Harvey," Mike said after he settled, "no...hospitals...please."

"That's not happening, Mike."

"I-it's my..choice," he stated stubbornly.

His hand halts in Mike's hair. He so did not have the patience to have this conversation right now, but when someone picks a fight with him, Harvey's never the one to back down.

"You don't have a choice," he stated.

"Yes.. I do." Mike retorted.

"Don't be stupid. You're going to a hospital." He declared. He heard Mike huff in frustration before shifting in his arms. He didn't expect the hands he cupped to move so quickly, and Mike suddenly broke through his hold and casted the bundled ice aside further down the couch.

"L-let..me up." He demanded before absurdly clambering his way to sit upright with his good arm. Harvey didn't have to hear his hissing to know how much unnecessary pain he was putting himself through.

"Mike!" He barked and tried to get a hold of his associate without hurting him. "Keep still! I'm not screwing around here!" His arm snaked around Mike's waist and the other around his collar bone just above his bruised chest.

"No!" Mike cried and tried yanking Harvey's arm away, but because his strength was weakened it felt more like tugging instead of yanking.

When Harvey saw the kid's legs start to flail, he couldn't believe Mike was throwing a _tantrum_ of all things when injured. He tightened his hold and held him down.

"What's going on here?" Donna demanded as she walked in on the scene.

"C-control freak!" Mike spat in his direction as he continued to struggle. That was the best he could come up with? Sheesh.

"Nothing, Donna," Harvey calmy said and continued to hold the petulant _child_ , "Mike here is just throwing a tantrum."

Mike kicked his beloved couch as a result of his comment, and he all but wanted to swat the kid.

Her eyebrow shot up. "Harvey, really?"

"He says he doesn't want to go to the hospital."

"Mike," Donna called calmly and stepped toward them. "Be reasonable, okay? You got hit by a _car_. Your shoulder needs stitching and your chest is severely bruised. It won't heal with a goodnight's rest."

Remarkably, but then again it was Donna, she somehow got through to the kid because the pathetic flailing and tugging slowly ceased.

"That's it. Just calm down." He advised when the fight started to wane out of Mike.

"Ugh...why me?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Donna huffed affectionately, and popped open the cap of medication.

He looked down at the blonde scruff pillowed on his chest. "How did you even manage to make it up here?"

"Didn't hurt … so much..guess it's shock.."

Donna handed him his pill and Mike plopped it in his mouth. She handed him a water bottle, and when Mike's hand was trembling too much, Donna kept it steady for him. She gently tipped his head back and he grimaced as he sipped the water.

They laid there with Mike nestled in his hold until the meds took effect. He could tell when they finally did because Mike's breathing improved and his muscles visibly relaxed. Donna pulled out her phone.

"It's Ray. He says he's here."

Mike groaned, probably not wanting to get up, and Harvey didn't blame him. Nonetheless he slowly swung his legs over the couch, and Harvey gingerly supported him to his feet.

"Let's get..this over with." Mike grunted out.

Harvey smiled, feeling a little proud. "Good man." He praised and gently swathed Mike's good arm over his shoulders and wrapped his other arm around the younger man's waist.

"Okay, be careful." Donna warned and moved to open the door for them.

They took slow, tentative steps. Harvey ignored the flabbergasted looks of his colleagues and instead focused on his associate.

"Almost there," Harvey encouraged when Mike started to wheeze a little bit.

When they finally made it to the elevators, Donna literally _dragged_ an older man by his arm.

"Make room! Nobody goes in!" She announced in front of a small crowd, and scoffed when they started whine. "Oh grow up, Jeff. You'll catch the next one."

The silent gratitude he felt for this woman kept piling up as the day progressed. The doors closed on her caring gaze, and Harvey readjusted his grip on the younger man.

Mike was breathing heavily and Harvey was all but carrying him.

"Gnh..h-hurts." Mike groaned, looking extremely pale.

"We're almost there, Mike."

The elevator doors dinged and opened to reveal the bright, bustling lobby. Mike desperately clawed the elevator wall with his blood crusted hand in an attempt to keep himself upright.

"I can't!" Mike cried, his shortened breaths coming out harshly through his nose. "I..can't H-Harvey."

Harvey wished he could just throw the kid over his shoulder and sprint to the car, but whether over his shoulder or in a fireman's carry- hell, even _bridal-style_ \- any other position would jostle his wounds and inflict more pain. He couldn't imagine moving Mike without the medication if he hurting this much with it.

"Yes you can." He declared confidently. "C'mon Mike, just a few more steps."

He gave the young man a moment to compose himself. If you could even call it composure because of his ghastly state. Mike closed his eyes, gritted his teeth. When he reopened his eyes, Harvey found himself gazing into a sky-blue of suppressed pain.

He never wanted to see that expression ever again. Ever.

They moved slowly but surely. Harvey once again ignored the shocked expressions of passerby-ers and hoped Mike was doing the same. Then again, the kid was in loads of pain so he was probably focusing all his energy on getting to the car.

When they finally arrived, thank God, Mike looked absolutely spent. Ray quickly got out of the car and opened the door for them.

"Jesus, Mike." He marveled. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He's gonna be fine." He confidently affirmed.

He placed his hands underneath Mike's arms and lowered him to his seat with the utmost caution.

"Easy, easy…"

Putting his seat belt on would put pressure on his chest, so Harvey avoided it. He'd be there to ensure his safety. Both he and Ray sat in the car and finally began to move.

Ray was driving with the right amount of speed and caution, but even he couldn't prevent the car from bumping up and down which caused Mike to hiss in pain.

"Sorry!" Ray exclaimed.

Mike had unconsciously (or consciously, he didn't know) grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly. Harvey made no comment about it, but man did the kid have a grip.

"I'm...s-sorry."

His eyes snapped on his associate before rolling his eyes and staring back out the window.

"For what?"

"Mgh..f-for th-this."

Aaand the guilt was back. Jesus, would it ever leave him alone? He cleared his throat and tried to shrug it away.

"Shut up." He said without any real bite. "And damn straight you should be sorry." The puppy eyes locked on him. "I told you to get rid of that damn bike, but I guess you've learned your lesson."

The kid managed to smirk with that split lip of his midst all that pain, and Harvey found his respect for him skyrocket. Not even half of the privileged, Harvard, hotshots in the associate's den would even have the balls to pick themselves up after being hit by a freaking car, let alone show up to work, let alone have the endurance to throw a _smirk_ in his direction with a black-and-blue chest and a split shoulder.

Naturally, he wouldn't say all this, but he did express it by squeezing Mike's hand and giving him one of his proudest smiles to let him know that he did well.

"Th-thanks." Mike managed.

"Yeah, well, replacing you would be to much of a pain in the ass, so here we are."

Mike understood his meaning, but he wanted to say it anyway.

"You're welcome, kid."


End file.
